


Blush And Blue

by CursedCursingViking



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Choking, F/M, Light BDSM, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedCursingViking/pseuds/CursedCursingViking
Summary: Diana works as a photographer’s assistant and happens to be working on a photoshoot starring none other than Tom Hiddleston. A scarf is put to good use.This was a request from Alexakeyloveloki on Tumblr - might I add, the sweetest request I have ever gotten. To write a fic, following her prompt, for the dear Dianamolloy, in celebration of her birthday. Happy birthday, dear Di! May you have many more to come!





	Blush And Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexakeyloveloki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexakeyloveloki/gifts), [dianamolloy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/gifts).



“A little up,” the photographer directs, and Diana moves the light reflector just slightly to make the model’s features stand out sharper. The high cheekbones and straight nose leading to his strong brows, much more agile and expressive than what his current stern demeanour lets on. 

She knows who he is - of course. You don’t have to spend more than a few minutes on Tumblr to know his name. Every so often it reappears in mainstream media as well, usually along with news regarding the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but also the occasional indie movie, theatre production, or award show. 

Spend a little more time on the godforsaken pun-filled website that Tumblr is, and you will learn why his adoring fans love him so much. His sharp suits, matching his aforementioned cheekbones. His curls, whether they are black, brown, red or blonde. The way he talks about the things he loves, full of energy and passion. The way he moves his hands when he does anything at all. Comments flood the site, in all levels of praise. Everything from ‘he speaks so softly and sweetly, he seems so thoughtful!’ to ‘that look gives me daddy-vibes.’ 

Tom Hiddleston.

And now, after spending the better half of the day inches from him, Di can tell it’s all true. He had arrived ten minutes early and properly introduced himself to everyone on the set of the shoot, including Di, the photographer's assistant. 

He has to change his outfit for the fourth time, but he doesn’t complain as Di ushers him to the changing room. 

“Was it the navy one, Jamie?” she calls to the photographer, who answers approvingly, and Di continues to carefully put the grey suit jacket Tom just shed on a hanger, before handing him the deep blue one. She doesn’t realise she stares as he puts it on, and even if she knew, she wouldn’t be able to help it. His icy blue eyes become just that much more piercing with the addition of an intricately patterned pocket square with azure highlights, and a tie to match. 

His eyes lock on hers awaiting something, but when she doesn’t react, he raises his brows and gives a cheeky asking smile, puncturing her bubble. 

“Sorry,” she excuses herself as she hands him the matching blue trousers and mumbles. “It’s just… it suits you. Blue suits you,” she ends her short ramblings with a determined nod and smile, and he returns it. 

“You too. I love the scarf!” he says and mindlessly licks his lips as his eyes gloss over her blue silk scarf and down her full figure, before he disappears behind the makeshift changing screen, giving him a small bit of privacy on the relatively open set. 

Diana has stopped in her tracks. She just got a compliment from Tom Hiddleston, the one, the only Tom. Fucking. Hiddleston. She stares emptily into the screen he disappeared behind, seeing nothing for her eyes, only her mind. She replays the way he looked at her - how his eyes pierced into hers when she complimented him, and how they lingered at her full lips on their way down her body, once again stopping ever-so-slightly at her chest to take in the view of her full bust. 

That is another thing you will learn on Tumblr. Tom Hiddleston loves boobs. A multitude of gifs will tell you just that, as he continues to linger by them, big and small, as he licks his lips in that way he has to know causes several fangirls to have heart attacks. 

Yet another rumour about him Di has gotten confirmed, judging by the way he stared at her. Calling it lustfully would be rude - perhaps desirably would be better? No, lustfully it is. Di pushes rudeness aside to make room for the truth, and asks herself the question millions of people worldwide would die to know. Does he fancy me? 

He steps out from behind the screen before she can linger in her thoughts, but as she gives him a once over to make sure he is in order for the next string of photos, her question is confirmed. The pants fit tightly over the bulge in his crotch, one there wasn’t there before - the grey pants, as well as the jeans and black trousers, he wore before, were all the same size as the blue ones he just donned, and though a certain blog(tom-hiddlestons-crotch-shots) will let you know that pants usually fit him tightly in that area, this is more than the usual strain the aptly nicknamed ‘Hiddlesconda’ puts on the fabric concealing it. 

Yes. He does fancy me - desire me? Fancy, desire, want to fuck? How come that such a well-worded man always puts people at a loss of the same… she thinks as she walks in front of him, leading him back to where Jamie is fiddling with the settings on the camera, giving him a new view of her curves from behind. This time she can’t see how his eyes graze over her ass and thighs, and even if she could see his eyes, she would have no idea what was going on behind them. 

No idea, of how he imagines her naked. Maybe how sweet she would look in a loose t-shirt on a Sunday morning, barely covering her bare cheeks. Or maybe how gorgeous she would look tied down by her wrists and ankles, with red splotches sprinkled onto her skin from the crop in his hand. He plays around with the scenarios in his mind as he loses himself in his thoughts and the view of her - her full butt, bouncing so delightfully over her thick thighs as she walks in front of him, and her breasts, coming back into his view as she turns to the photographer to say something he doesn’t really register, until he realises - oh shit, I’ve been staring! Quickly, he turns his attention back to work, though with the odd thought pushed in here and there in the hopes of calming himself down. 

“Okay, Tom,” Jamie says, “If you go stand by the chair, we’ll start from there. Can you give me that brooding stare from before?” 

Tom does as he’s told, and puts on his best dom face - even though Jamie didn’t explicitly ask for him to look ‘dom-ish’, Tom has learnt through the years that when photographers and directors ask for a stern look, they want the same eyes that he uses to make submissive girls’ knees buckle. He stares at the camera as if he had given it one rule for their evening out, and it had broken it anyway on purpose. As Jamie tells him to move around the set, Tom’s eyes land on Di again, for only a moment. He’s still in the zone with the furrowed brows, and accidentally gives her the same stare he just gave the camera. 

Her deep eyes flutter and her soft cheeks blush - did he have to look at her like that?! Now, she is about as flustered as he was when he walked behind her. She struggles not to stare as she holds the reflector to put him in the best light. 

He moves around as directed, leans against a countertop, sitting by the table, does different poses, but Jamie isn’t satisfied. It feels like something is missing. 

“You need some kind of prop,” Jamie muses. “Something in your hands… Di! Can he borrow your scarf?” 

Jamie’s proposal catches her a little off guard as it breaks her bubble. “Sure,” she manages to get out, as she puts down the equipment she holds and takes off the blue piece of silk. 

Tom walks over and gently takes it from her hands, his fingers lightly grazing over hers and sending shivers down her spine, as he gives a small smile. “Thank you, Darling,” he says in a smooth voice, sending the shivers back up through her body. 

Time passes as he plays around with the scarf and Jamie captures countless images. Di tries her best to split her focus between her work and Tom’s long fingers tangling up in her scarf and mind, until both are broken by the careful voice of the other assistant, who holds the diffuser. 

“Um, Jamie?” he asks, “You promised we would be done at four, and it’s four fifteen already. I promised to pick up my mum from the airport…” 

Jamie’s palm collides with his forehead. “Of course, Sean. Sorry! Let’s wrap up now,” he apologises, but the young man shakes his head. 

“No no, don’t worry,” he says, not wanting to frustrate his boss. Not that Jamie is ever mean to them, but Sean is young and new in town, and about as anxious as a fawn caught without its mum, and Di can tell he wants to leave. 

“Hey, if you really need to go, I’ll stay behind and clean up,” she offers, and his eyes light up. 

“Thank you so much, Di!” He gleams as he runs to grab his backpack and rushes to hug her tightly. Slightly surprised, Di hugs back the scrawny boy with a motherly smile, before he flashes her a childlike smile full of thanks and runs out of the studio. As he lets go, Di’s eyes meet Tom’s face. She can’t tell if he’s still ‘in character’ or if he has gotten possessively jealous of the young boy hugging her.

“I’ll see you next week!” Sean shouts to Jamie, whose focus is turned on the camera. 

“See you!” he shouts back without taking his eyes from the small screen in front of him. 

Tom’s kind tone is back as he walks over to Jamie. “Did you get everything you need?” he asks, and Jamie finally peels his eyes away from the photos. 

“Yeah, now I just need to edit them and send them off to the magazine,” he muses his to-do list and scratches his hair in worry.

Di knows why - If there is something Jamie always complains about, it’s how little time he has to edit. And how difficult it is to boil down hundreds of pictures to around twenty to fit in the magazines. “Do you need me to stay behind again?” she offers, and Jamie frowns apologetically. 

“But you already have all Sean’s equipment and the clothes,” he worries. “I’ll stay and help you clean up.” 

The headstrong woman changes her tactic. “When is your deadline?” For a moment, one might have thought she was the boss. 

“Sunday night,” he sighs. Tom has gone to change back into his own clothes. 

“Go home and start editing,” Diana insists. “I’ll pack down our stuff and get the clothes to the dry cleaner. The studio said they’ll take care of the props.” 

Jamie gives in with a relieved sigh. “Thank you so much, Di.”

“No problem,” she assures, as she begins to pack down the diffuser and the reflector in their shared bag. Jamie takes the memory card from the camera, grabs his computer bag, and heads for the door, with the promise that he’ll see her next week. Di returns it. 

She stares around the empty set before picking a place to start. In the corner of the room, she unplugs the electrical cord that powers the umbrella and the bigger collapsable lightboxes and begins to coil it up, before methodically moving on to put everything carefully into their suited box. 

She’s almost done when Tom emerges from behind the changing screen. She’s standing bent over, trying to force the lightboxes into their cases, giving him quite the view. 

Fuck, she’s hot standing like that… he snaps out of his trance when she finally manages to zip the case closed and stands up. “Your scarf,” he says in that tone that’s the perfect mix of gravelly and smooth - like velvet, millions of small, soft bumps becoming unified in the most expensive of ways. 

She goes to take the silk scarf from him, but he wraps it delicately around her neck, startling her and making her blush. 

“Red suits you too, I see,” he says and winks - winks - as he brushes two fingers playfully over her rosy cheeks. 

The mix of nervousness, flatter and strange comfort under his touch, breaches her defences from the inside, and she can’t help but laugh. “Well, I wore blue today, and you’re definitely messing up my outfit!” she complains ironically. 

Tom takes his time to give her a once over, once again. Her blue eyeshadow matches the scarf perfectly and makes her eyes stand out. Something inside of him wants to ruin her well-thought-out colour scheme, and see her flushed red and panting underneath him. “Can I mess it up a little more?” he challenges. 

Di bites her lip. Does he have to be that attractive while asking that? “Well, I’m kind of in the middle of cleaning up, so minimal mess is preferred,” she manages with a wink and goes back to her work, picking up the suitcases full of camera equipment. 

“Is that a no, or are you playing hard to get?” he asks sincerely, wanting to give her an out or - hopefully - get a green light. 

“I’ll cut you a deal. How about you help me carry this down the hall, and come figure it out for yourself?” 

“Whatever you say, Darling,” he chuckles and takes the cases from her hands, definitely brushing his over hers on purpose. 

One trip down the stairs, and one trip up, later, they’re back to pack down the suits, when Di decides to challenge him back. 

“So, are pants always this tight over the crotch on you?” she asks with a playful squint as she holds up the navy blue pants in front of her. 

“I think it’s my turn to cut you a deal, now,” he squints back. “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours. Was it a no, or hard to get?” 

She chuckles and stares him down. “Hard to get,” she confesses with parted lips, making Tom hum in approval. 

“Yes, always that tight, when looking at such a pretty woman,” he says teasingly. 

“God, how do you manage?” she teases as she zips up the suit cover around the last set and picks up the hangers. “Ready to go?” 

“Absolutely,” is all he says as he goes to hold the door open and she slips out under his arm. 

She’s done loading the suits in her car when she turns to face him. “So, where are you heading?” She asks. 

“My hotel.” 

“Need a ride?” She asks with a smile and an arched brow, as she slips into the driver's seat. Tom follows suit and opens the door in the passenger's side, slips in and thanks her. 

They drive to the dry cleaner, and Di drops off the suits. Back in the car, she starts the motor again and drives towards the address Tom gave her. Sitting in the hotel’s underground parking lot, he looks at her again, with a playful and lusting grin. 

“So,” he begins. “Could I make you blush a little more?” 

“Try me,” she challenges with parted lips and leans closer, even though she is fairly sure her cheeks are already bright red. 

Tom stares at her full lips as he leans in to kiss her. He starts slowly by softly pinching her lips with his, but soon, he lets a dominating hand hold her jaw in place as he deepens the kiss, his tongue lightly grazing hers, before biting her - not too hard, but not lightly either. A red mark is left as he pulls away to look at her again, although it fades quickly. His eyes are full of hunger, hunger for her body against his. He asks her to come up to his room with him, and leads her carefully with a hand on her back, now that they’re not in private. Inside the elevator, he lets go of her again, only to press her against the wall and kiss her again, until a ‘ding’ alerts them that they have arrived. 

The possessive hand is on her back again, as he leads her down the hall to his room. The door gets unlocked and pushed open in a heartbeat, and once it clicks close again, his lips find their way back to hers. 

She moans as he licks his lips and his tongue flicks over her sensitive skin again. 

“I love it when you moan,” he says, as he leads her walking backwards to the bed in the middle of the suite and sits her down. “Can I?” he asks carefully, as he tugs her shirt upwards, but she’s one step ahead of him as she lifts it over her head. 

Tom chuckles to himself. “Not so hard to get anymore,” he teases. 

“Well, your pants are getting awfully tight, so,” she gives back and places a comparably small hand over his large bulge, making him groan. 

He pushes her to lay down on her back and crawls between her legs, before he kisses her again. All while fiddling with the zipper and button of his pants, and once he gets them opened, he pulls back and shuffles them off. He returns to his spot, but this time, he puts his hands on her breasts and squeezes them up, as he buries his face between them, alternating between sucking and kissing. 

Di tries to take off his shirt, and he lets her by pulling back a bit. Now his naked chest is against her bra, and he wraps his arms around her to unhook it, before moving his hands down her sides and tugging her pants off. 

Soon after, they’re both naked, and he’s back between her legs, this time eating her out. 

How did we get here? Di catches herself thinking as Tom’s tongue makes her moan and squirm with every lick along her nether lips. He laps closer and deeper to her entrance and pierces her with his agile tongue. She gasps loudly and buries her fingers in his curls, making him chuckle in self-satisfaction and pat himself on the back internally. He nips her tender skin, making her yelp, and moves up her body with a trail of kisses over her stomach and breasts to her neck and jaw. He adopts her style and tangles a hand in her hair, as the other takes over where his mouth was making her whole body tremble before. Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside of her, while he tightens the grip on her scalp. He doesn’t fail to notice how she closes her eyes and opens her mouth in pleasure, through a silent moan. 

“Look at me.” The order is firm and direct, but spoken in a soft voice, which continues once she obeys. “God, you’re gorgeous, Di,” he praises. “Lying so sweetly beneath me, lips apart, unable to speak just by the flick of my hand.” With that, he pushes his fingers further into her, pressing the pads against her spasming walls, and she draws in a sharp breath and struggles to get her words aligned properly. How the hell did he know?! 

God, how does one ask Tom Hiddleston to fuck one, when one can’t speak? Di puts one hand on either of his wrists, stopping him in his movements for long enough to form a coherent sentence. “Please, Tom, I want you inside me,” she asks. 

He hums darkly and kisses her jaw. “Beg for it.” 

Asshole. The thought passes through her mind quickly before she gathers her focus again and begins begging. “Please, Tom, fuck me. I want y- I need you inside me. Please, jus…” 

He cuts her off with a hand on her throat, making it harder for her to speak. The fingers lodged in her centre notice how wet she suddenly is as she clenches around him. “What was that, Darling?” 

“Please, Tom,” she manages with her last breath of air. “Fuck me.” 

He hums in approval and lets go of her throat again, before stroking his hard cock quickly and he aligns his length with her entrance and pushes in, stretching her inch by inch. His eyes are on her face, reading her reactions and seeing her deep red blush. “Such a lovely colour,” he muses and catches her lips again in another kiss. 

Di feels herself practically melt under his touches. The patient and steady pumps of his hips against hers, the hand that has ventured to her breast, and his lips against hers. She doesn’t get to wonder where his other hand went before it returns to her neck with something soft and cool. 

He doesn’t move his lips from hers, as he, for the second time that day, wraps her scarf around her neck. He crosses it on the front of her neck and gathers the loose ends in his hand behind her head, so he can control the tightness by simply tugging and letting go of the blue silk. 

He pulls back when he feels her stiffen ever so slightly. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he insists sincerely with caring eyes, and she nods and relaxes again. 

With her eyes closed, everything feels stronger and more intense - how his cock presses against her sweet spots, how his hand holds her hips steadily, how his breathing sounds slightly shallow and strained, and how he slowly tightens the scarf around her neck. She feels herself let go of control as her lungs keep filling with and letting go of air - oxygen gets transferred to her veins, but her blood gets slowed down by the constricting fabric before it gets to her head. Her thoughts are non-existent, as all her mind cares for now is keeping her breathing steady and the feeling of Tom touching her. Nothing matters anymore, as all she feels, all she senses, is her body and Tom’s against hers. 

He keeps a careful eye on her, as he tries hard not to give up control of himself and give in to the warm silky velvet of her. He steadily increases his pace and the pressure around her neck. Moans barely escape her anymore, but he can tell she gets closer to her climax. One of her hands is wrapped tightly around the wrist of his hand holding the scarf and her breaths seem to go somewhere deeper in her stomach. 

He slowly lets go of the scarf, letting her blood flow fast and freely again. For a moment, she is dizzy, but seconds later her senses are back at full force, as he has sped up his pace, and is practically pounding her into the mattress. His teeth are gritted as he presses his chest closer into hers and kisses her again. 

Her defenses are already long gone as she moans into his lips. She feels herself get closer to not being able to take anymore. The pressure deep in her abdomen and sex is overflowing and her back buckles, pushing her closer to him. His free hand has moved to pinch, squeeze and twist her breast and nipple in sweet torture as he keeps rolling his hips into hers. 

Right as she reaches her climax, he tightens the scarf again, cutting off her thoughts and concentration, and sends her over the edge gasping for something to hold onto, as she spasms against him and pulls him over with her. 

She keeps arching her back as he rolls his hips slowly the last few times, ridding them both of the last traces of physical orgasmic bliss, and loosens the blue silk, letting her think to talk again. 

Panting heavily, they steady themselves, and Tom puts two fingers under her chin, making her look at him. “Lovely colours,” he smiles at the blushed blue wearing woman and places her sweet kiss on her smiling lips, making her melt into his warmth again for what feels like the hundredth time that day, and she hopes it won’t be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> Gifs are from enchantedbyhiddles, tomhiddleslove, and maryxglz on Tumblr.  
> In loving memory of the blog tom-hiddlestons-crotch-shots.


End file.
